The Late Show with John Laurens
by Clair The Guardian
Summary: John Laurens is the newest host of The Late Show and has a very promising career ahead of him. Meanwhile, the Washington Administration is starting it's first term, but the real question is whether or not the Cabinet will tear itself apart. A modern late show AU that needed to exist. Rated T for language and... other things.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is just something I'm doing for fun, so chapter updates will be inconsistent. But I do like writing John, so I might do this more often than not. But, anyway, enjoy!**

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Chapter 1: The Pilot Episode

John Laurens drew a shaky breath, "... Alright. I can do this. Right?'

He straightened his tie for the third time that night. This was it. His debut on The Late Show. Tonight would either make or break his career. He ran a hand through his curly brown hair, tied into a tight ponytail, making sure not too many hairs were sticking out and looked over his suit again. It was a simple dark blue suit with a black waistcoat, dark green pocket square and stripped blue and green tie. It was fairly plain, but looked very well made and it fit the young freckled man perfectly.

He sighed and turned around, "How do I look?"

The man sitting on the couch in John's dressing room chuckled, "Fine. Again. Seriously man, calm down. I know what to do when it comes to suits. Besides, you'll do great out there."

John huffed and threw a small towel at Hercules Mulligan, "How can I calm down?! This show will either make or brake my carreer!"

His tall friend caught the towel and stood, "Hey, just relax man. I felt the same way when I started my show. It's natural."

John knew Hercules was right. On his first night as host of Last Week Tonight, he had a near panic attack over a tear in a suit he bought. Luckily, for both Hercules and himself, Hercules was a master tailor and, in wanting to avoid a similar fiasco, he asked his long time friend to make a suit for his opening night.

He sighed and turned back to the mirror, adjusting his tie again, "Yeah, but this is still going to be hard as hell."

Hercules shook his head and turned John around to face him. His fellow host and tailor towered a good five inches above himself, despite him being above average height. He straited John's tie perfectly and playfully ruffled his smaller friend's hair, "Don't sweat it Laurens. I'll be backstage watching with the rest of the crew. We all know you can do this."

John couldn't help the smile that snuck onto his face. His childhood friend always knew how to cheer him up. Brfore he could thank him, a knock came from the door, "Mr. Laurens? Five minutes till we're live."

John sighed and turned back to Hercules, who had his usual wide, reassuring smile on full display. He returned it with his own lopsided grin and raised a fist, "Wish me luck."

He nodded and bumpped a much larger fist against John's, "Good luck John. You'll do great out there."

John nodded, drew another breath and opened the door. The two friends went their separate ways, Hercules to the tech support room and John headed for the stage. He stopped in front of the large sliding doors that would open when the show started, revealing the new host. He could hear the band warming up and the audience settling into their seats. He popped his neck and drew another breath. He was ready for this. He'd waited for this for so long and he didn't plan to back out now. On the other side of the door, he heard the crowd cheer as the band started up. The show was starting. He shook his head, causing a few curls to come loose and put on a wide smile. He was ready to join his friend in the spotlight.

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to The Late Show! Introducing your newest host, John Laurens!"

The audience went wild as the doors slid open. John's smile grew as he stepped into the spotlight.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm having way too much fun thinking about what to write for this. I'm having fun writing this, so I might come up chapters more frequently.** **I also love writing John Laurens, I really do. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 2: Welcome Folks, to The Washington Administration!

 _One year later..._

"Ladies and gentleman, welcome to The Late Show! Here's your host, John Laurens! "

The audience cheered wildly as the freckled man jogged into the spotlight with a wide grin on his face. He straightened his black waistcoat as he waved to the crowd and live band. He looked down quickly to make sure his silver tie was straight against his dark green suit. Assured that it was, he beamed at the leader of the band, who was happily playing the piano. He turned back to the cameras with a lopsided grin, "Hello everyone and welcome to The Late Show!"

The audience applauded happily and he chuckled, "It's nice to have y'all here tonight. I'm your host, John Laurens. How y'all doing?"

The audience cheered again. "Ha, good to hear it! Let's see, what's in the news? Hm... Oh, right. The election has come to a close, and-"

John was caught off by the crowd cheering wildly. He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, me too. Let's face it, this election year has been... something. Arron Burr was talking less, smiling more and not telling us what he's against or for. Charles Lee should take notes from Burr. Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton had a giant Twitter war. Again. Angelica Schuyler is still the oldest and the wittiest. Jefferson and James Madison still haven't gotten a room. Oh, and most importantly, former General of the US Military, George Washington won the election!"

The audience went wild and John's smile widened further, "Alright, alright! That's what I'm talking about! And this means that we won't have to say, 'President George King' ever again."

The cheers were even louder. "Ha ha! That's right, now we can say 'I like President George' and mean it. We have a great show for you tonight, Maria Lewis is here and we're going to talk shit about her ex-husband. Elizabeth Schuyler is here too. Lovely woman, but if she's here, I have no doubt Margret Schuyler will be here too and, when two or more Schuylers are gathered and her name is spoken aloud, there Angelica Schuyler will be. So, I'm pretty sure the Schuyler Sisters are backstage, judging my fashion choices. We also have two year, going on three, Tour de France winner and nominee for the Department of Transportation, Paul Revere here. Though, let's start tonight off with our favorite game, 'Is He Still Talking?!'"

The audience cheered happily, it was always a crowd favorite.

"Today on 'Is He Still Talking?!', Alexander Hamilton, and a speech he gave two days ago. For those of you who don't know who Alexander Hamilton is, um, what hole have you been hiding in for the bast year and a half?"

That got a lot of laughs from people who new of the young politician.

"But, for those who don't know who he is, he's the short, scowling guy next to President Elect Washington. Ah! That felt good to say. But, anyway, the speech."

John pointed at the camera and it switched to a clip of a young man in his twenties standing at a podium. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd, "... For the past four years-"

"And mute!"

The clip continued to play on the corner of the screen without any sound. John smiled mischievously as the audience laughed.

"We'll check back in on Mr. Hamilton later in the show to see if he's still talking. We have a great show for you tonight! Maria Lewis will be with us, after this, see you then!"

The band played and the crowd cheered as the show faded to commercial.

0-0-0-0-0

Alexander Hamilton calmly stepped out of a building with a small grin on his face. He replayed the conversation he had just minutes ago in his head. President Elect George Washington had asked him to be Treasury Secretary and he happily agreed. He made his way to his car, skillfully avoiding any journalists that were about. Once he was safely in his car, he called a friend.

 _Ring..._

 _Ring..._

 _Ri- Click!_

 _"Mon petite lion!"_

Alexander chuckled at his childhood nickname, "Lafayette, it's been a while."

 _"Likewise, Alexander. It's always good to hear from you. How have you been? I doubt you've been fairing those New York winters well."_

He sighed, "On the nose as always. However, I do have some news to share with you."

 _"Oh? What kind of news?"_

"The kind you have to sit done and have a drink with me at my house to hear.

 _"Ha ha! Cheeky as ever! Fine, I'll be around shortly. See you there Mon ami."_

"Likewise Laf." Alexander hung up and made his way home. He lived in a spacious apartment in Manhattan. It was homey, out of the way and hard to find. Perfect for the young politician. When he parked his car and made his way to the front door, he was happy to see Lafayette chatting with the bellboy.

"Lafayette!"

The Frenchman turned and smiled widely, "Alexander!"

He happily threw an arm over the smaller's shoulders and ushered him up to the fifth floor. As Alexander unlocked his door, Lafayette leaned against the wall, "So, what was this news you spike of, or did you just want an excuse to see moi?"

Alexander chuckled and opened his door, "Get inside Laf."

Lafayette smirked and waltzed inside. He reacted like Alexander expected him to at the current state of his apartment. He did clean, but he also tended to sit in on place for hours, if not days, without moving much, which lead to things being piled up in places he found most comfortable to work, like his couch and the island in the kitchen. The messes in question were from about a week ago when he sat at the island and wrote for three days before eating some and moving to the couch for another three days. Lafayette, having known Alexander for several years, knew exactly how long he sat there by the size if the mess.. Lafayette reaction was looking at the isolated messes, turning to Alexander and hitting him upside the head while yelling at him in French to take better care of himself.

The rest of the night went well. Lafayette was predictably overjoyed at Alexander's news and the two of them had a few drinks to celebrate. By around midnight, the two of them were tipsy, sharing work stories on the couch. Alexander was having a good time, at least until his phone went off. He picked it up and looked over the email. Call him paranoid, but he had notifications set up for when his name came up online to see what was being said about him. This time it was a video that was uploaded to YouTube earlier that day. He stood, grabbed his laptop and sat at the kitchen island. There wasn't any harm in watching a video or two. He was in too good of a mood for anything to bring him down. Except for Jefferson.

He shook the thought of the man out of his head and looked up the video. It was from one of those late night shows he'd heard about a while ago. He never had the time to check them out, so he didn't know what to except. Lafayette sat next to him and watched the screen, "... Hm. 'The Late Show with John Laurens.' He spoke of you?"

"Looks like it."

"You're going to watch it, right?"

"Yep."

Lafayette chuckled as Alexander clicked on the video, "'Is He Still Talking?!' Sounds like something you'd be on."

He chuckled as the video loaded. When it started, Alexander was presented with a young, green-eyed man whose face was completely covered in freckles sitting at a desk. Alexander felt right to assume that this was John Laurens. He smiled as the crowd's cheering calmed down, "Alright everyone, before we leave tonight, we have one last thing to touch upon and that is Alexander Hamilton. Also known as The Lord of Getting Pissed at People on the Internet. He's like the patron saint of angry Internet users. If you don't believe me, just look at everything he's ever said to Thomas Jefferson on Twitter. But, in all seriousness, he's not a bad guy, in my opinion anyway. He just has no filter whatsoever. Like, at all. Though, I do tend to agree with a lot of what he says. He supports many good things and I appreciate him doing that. But, more importantly, if you remember, at the beginning of the show we started 'Is He Still Talking?!' were we started one of his speeches at the beginning of the show and muted it so we could hear ourselves think. Now, let's check back in and see if he is still talking."

John pointed at the screen and it switched to a video Alexander knew. It was the speech he gave not long ago.

"-e are not going to continue lying down and taking-"

"And mute!"

The video continued to play with no sound on the corner of the screen while John Laurens smirked at the camera, "And there you have it folks. Alexander Hamilton is still talking. And he continued to talk for the next three hours. Yeah, Mr. Hamilton does not know when to stop. But I do mean it when I saw I like most things about him. One of the things I don't like, his fashion sense. Hamilton has two dress modes, fashionable politician and homeless hipster. Here we have Exhibit A."

Underneath the muted video, a picture of Alexander next to George Washington at the Republican Convention. He was in a brand new dark green suit with a black waistcoat. He did look pretty good.

"And Exhibit B."

Next to the first picture, a second popped in. It was Alexander outside of a small grocery store. He was wearing a Cubs hoodie, a T-shirt of some band from the nineties, black sweatpants and neon green flip flops. John Laurens shook his head at the photo, "Yeah. I hate when rich people dress horribly. Like, you have a lot of money, Mr. Hamilton, use it. Buy nicer things. Or, at the very least hire someone to do it for you. But anyway, that's our show for tonight! You've all been wonderful! Goodnight!"

The crowd's cheers and John's smile were the last things shown in the video before it endorsed their channel and stopped. Lafayette had a wide smile on his face, "Ha ha! That was great!"

Alexander simply nodded. He hadn't seen anything like this before. Were all late night shows like this? The show poked fun at him, but that's all it was, fun. And this John Laurens person seemed like someone Alexander wouldn't mind knowing. Hell, if they had already met, they might be close friends. He quietly closed the computer and walked back to the living room for his phone.

"... Uh. Alexander? What are you doing?"

He simply smirked at Lafayette as he picked up his phone and started typing out a tweet. He wasn't sure if John Laurens would see it or not, but he figured any of his thirty thousand followers that watched the show would enjoy the slight nod. His main thoughts, however, were on what possible reaction John Laurens would have. He'd never admit it out loud, but he like the comedian a lot. He was very funny and supported the things he said. It would be nice to have a talk with him, someday. With that idea in mind, he posted the tweet.


	3. Chapter 3

**This is the best thing ever. I love writing this so much. I also appreciate all the feedback this is getting. So enjoy!**

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Chapter 3: Fools Who Run Thier Mouths Off

Hercules Mulligan wasn't sure how he got roped into this. He really wasn't. He had his own show too, you know. Yes, it only came on at eleven PM every Sunday, but he still had work to do for it. Deep down, he didn't really mind all that much, he'd do anything for John Laurens, though that may have been why he was so annoyed. How had that annoying freckled man wormed his way into his life again?

John had acted weird since his latest guest agreed to come on The Late Show. One of the many new up and coming politicians that worked with President Elect Washington named Marquis de Lafayette. He didn't know a whole lot about the guy, other than that he was supposedly French. John had adamantly insisted that he show the guest around the set while he was in a meeting. He agreed and now he was waiting outside the back door of the building the show was filmed in for the politician to arrive.

Hercules sighed and checked his watch. Lafayette was supposed to be here soon. He wondered what the supposed Frenchman looked like, but decided to wait and find out. He pushed off from the wall and straightened his beanie. Not many people knew this, but he took pride what he wore and always made sure his clothes fit who he was perfectly. Today, he was wearing a dark red and dark blue jacket that stopped above his knees over a cream button-up with a pair of his famous black pants and deep crimson boots with a blue trim that went up to his mid-calves, all topped with his favorite maroon and blue beanie. He was very proud of his outfit today, and so was John, for whatever reason.

The comedian was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of an engine. He turned and, sure enough, an expensive looking car was pulling in. It parked near the door and the side door opposite of Hercules opened. Three people stepped out, two of which he knew of. The shortest of the three had deep chocolate eyes, lighter brown hair tied into a loose ponytail and soft olive skin. Hercules instantly recognized Alexander Hamilton, his face was very well known to reporters and people like himself and John, given how often he showed up during the campaign. The second man had long curly black hair also tied into a ponytail, dark colored eyes; though it was hard to tell what color they were from so far away; and light brown skin. He was the tallest of the three, though still shorter than Hercules, and carried himself confidently. He had very European features, so it felt right to assume that this was Lafayette. The final man stood taller than Hamilton but shorter than Lafayette. He had no hair, bright black eyes, and skin a fraction lighter than his own. He had been around politics long enough to recognize Aaron Burr immediately.

The three men didn't seem to have noticed him and were talking amongst themselves. Sometimes Hamilton and Lafayette would speak a language that Hercules assumed was French to each other before Burr got annoyed and had them stop only for them to do it a few minutes later. Deciding that he's spied enough, he walked up behind them.

When Burr sighed and said, "Where is the guide? He's late." He knew now was perfect. He chuckled loudly and responded, "Yo, I'm late when I say I'm late!"

The three jumped and quickly turned around. The all looked equally surprised at seeing such a tall person come out of nowhere, Hamilton actually took a step back. Now that he was in front of them, he could make out certain details better. Hamilton and Burr both had massive bags under their eyes which was understandable, they were helping get the Washington Administration together before the inauguration. Lafayette's eyes seemed to be either a very dark brown or a light black. He was also a few inches shorter than Hercules' six foot nine; possibly around six foot five, Burr seemed around six feet even and Hamilton was at least five foot seven; a few inches shorter than John.

Hercules crossed his arms and smiled widely, "Pleasure to meet ya. I'm your guide, so let's get this thing started, alright?"

The three blinked up at him for a second before Burr stepped forward, "Ahem. Right, of course. I am-"

"Aaron Burr, sir!"

Burr jumped at Hercules' loud voice. He knew he was loud and he made sure everyone knew it too.

"... Um. Yes, that's me."

Hamilton chuckled and stepped forward, "Alexander Hamilton. Nice to meet you."

Hercules grabbed Hamilton's hand in his own giant one, "Pleasure."

He let go and turned to Lafayette, whose eyes were glued on him, "I suppose that means your Lafayette, right?"

The Frenchman nodded and cleared his throat, "Oui. Je m'appelle Lafayette."

Hercules just nodded, not understanding a word and turned to the door, "Alright, let's get this show on the road."

He walked up to the door and held it open, "Right this way."

The three walked and Hercules took the lead. He pointed out the guest suites, the bathrooms, the soundstage, the meeting room, the break room and some of the prop rooms. As they walked down one of the long hallways, Lafayette started walking next to him, "... So, how long have you worked here?"

Hercules chuckled, "Oh, no. I don't work here."

The Frenchman blinked up at him, "Pardon?"

"John Laurens, the host, is an old friend of mine. I come by whenever I'm free from work."

"Oh? What do you do?"

"I'm a late night comedian too. I'm just on another show. Last Week Tonight on HBO from eleven to midnight every Sunday."

Hamilton walked up to Hercules' other side, "HBO? Isn't that the channel that doesn't have to deal with big companies?"

"Yep! I can say and talk about what I like and not get shut down for it!"

Burr sighed and mumbled something under his breath. Hamilton heard whatever it was he said and turned on him, "Burr. Please. None of that today."

Hercules turned around, walking backward and watching Burr and Hamilton, "Let me guess, still don't like Burr's stance on things, Hamilton?"

Burr raised an eyebrow, "What do you know about my views?"

Hercules shrugged, "It's my job."

He turned back around as they approached the end of the hall. He placed his hands on the double door and smirked at the group, "And now, the main event."

Hercules pushed the door open to reveal the main stage. It was the largest room in the building and the best decorated. The band and a few crew members were working on tonight's show. He leads the three men down the center aisle toward the stage. When they were half way down, Lafayette tugged on his sleeve, "Pardon me but I never got your name."

"... Huh. I guess I didn't tell ya. Well, in that case, I'm-"

"HERCULES MULLIGAN!"

All for of them jumped when the band yelled Hercules' name. The man in question turned to the band and smiled widely, "Yo! Guys, what's happenin'?"

The band leader, a darker man named Francis Hopkinson, chuckled and leaned against his piano, "Not much Herc, just getting ready for tonight."

The bass player, a very pale man named James Lyon, stood next to Francis, "Yeah. John's going to sing and Francy here needs to be ready."

Hercules chuckled as Francis hit his band mate for the nickname. He enjoyed the company of the band, they were all nice and worked well together. He walked up to the band with the three men following behind. The drummer, a fancily dressed man named William Billings, looked over at the small group and whistled, "Wow. Alexander Hamilton, Marquis de Lafayette and Aaron Burr Sir. John's gotten some pretty big politicians, huh?"

Hercules shrugged and threw an arm over Lafayette's shoulder, "Nah. Just the Marquis here is going to be on."

The lead guitarist, a very young man named Oliver Holden, looked up from tuning his guitar, "Hey guys, are we going to warm up or what?"

Francis sighed, "Fine. Oh! Hey, Herc, got any rhymes in you tonight?"

"Hercules laughed and lightly punched the band leader's shoulder, "I always got rhymes. William, give us a beat!"

William nodded and started playing. It was a simple beat, but it would work. Hercules picked up a bottle of water and raised it high, _"I may not live to see our glory."_

Francis chuckled and raised his own water bottle, _"I may not live to see our glory."_

He turned to the three men and winked, " _But I've seen wonders, great and small._ "

Oliver laughed and raised a cup of tea _, "I've seen wonders, great and small."_

He wheeled around and pointed at James, _"Cause if the tomcat can get married."_

James sputtered and William cracked up, " _If our dear James can get married."_

" _There's hope for our ass after all!"_

The band cracked up as James set his bass, "That's it. I'm going home. I have a wife, I don't need this."

Oliver hugged James and tried to pull him back, "No don't go! We'll have to make Herc do it and then nothing will get done on the show tonight!

Hercules laughed and turned back to Burr, Hamilton, and Lafayette, "Anyway, this is the main stage area. And those four are a part of the band. Francis, James, William and Oliver. **(1)** There's more of them, but I'm sure you'll meet them later Lafayette."

Before the Frenchman could respond, the back door burst opened. He turned and smiled at the person who entered, "Yo Theo! Come meet the Marquis!"

A young woman with long black dreadlocks walked towards him swiftly with a small smile on her lips, "Hercules. Always a pleasure. Did you already show him around?"

He chuckled and saluted her, "Yes ma'am!"

She nodded and held her hand out to Lafayette, "Hello there Marquis de Lafayette. I am Theodosia Prevost, but that'll change so don't worry about forgetting it. Just call me Theo. I'm one of the writers for the show and the handler of all of them." She nodded towards Hercules and the band.

The Frenchman blinked and shook her hand, "Oui. It is a pleasure to meet you."

She nodded and turned to the band, "Are all of you ready for tonight? We're expecting a large audience so be prepared for that."

Hercules chuckled until he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over and saw something interesting. Burr was staring at Theodosia. He looked between the two for a second before thinking about it. He imagined Burr; the ever intelligent and controlled politician. Then he imagined Theodosia; the strong, brilliant person that he's glad to call a friend. Then he imagined them together. He couldn't explain it, but it just made sense.

He smirked and threw and arm over Theodosia's shoulder, "So, Theo, how are things?"

The young woman growled, "I'd rather not talk about it."

He raised an eyebrow, Theo didn't usually express her anger. "Something happen?"

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, "Yeah. I don't have time to talk about it though."

"Sounds like you've had a bad week."

She sighed, "Tell me about it. I'm so done with Jacques."

"Yeah. You deserve a decent guy. Like me."

She made a dry sounding laugh and removed Hercules' arm from around her, "Sorry Hercules, but you're not my type and you know it."

He smiled and rolled his eyes, "Yeah I know." He glanced at Burr and Hamilton and smiled, "Another thing. These two came with Lafayette." He pointed towards them.

Theo glanced over at them curiously. Hercules noticed her brown eyes linger a second longer on Burr than Hamilton and smirked inwardly. The writer smiled warmly at both of them and held out her hand, "Theodosia. A pleasure to meet you."

Hamilton smiled and shook her hand, "Alexander Hamilton. And this is-"

"Aaron Burr Sir. I know." She released Hamilton's hand and stepped up to Burr with a small smirk dancing on her lips, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Burr. Sir."

Burr blinked at her for a moment, "... Likewise Mrs. Prevost."

"Please, call me Mrs. Bartow, if you insist on formality. I intend to go back to it very soon."

He raised an eyebrow, "Family trouble?"

"Horrible husband."

"Ah. I see."

Hercules smiled at the two and threw an arm over Lafayette's shoulder, "Hey Theo, how about I take Lafayette to the waiting room while you watch Hamilton and Burr?"

Theodosia glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised suspiciously. She gave Burr a quick, almost unnoticeable, glance before nodding, "Alright. Just don't break him, okay?"

"No promises. Let's go!"

He pulled the Frenchman off towards the meeting room where he and John would discuss what they would talk about on the show. When they were almost there, he let go of Lafayette. "John will meet you in the meeting room after his meeting with the producers is over. Mind if I keep you company for a while?"

"O-oh! No, not at all."

He smiled and opened the door to the meeting room, "After you."

Lafayette walked in and looked around. Hercules walked in behind him and closed the door. The meeting room was one of the nicest rooms in the building. An expensive looking meeting table was surrounded by some of the most comfortable chairs ever. Hercules sat at the head of the table and patted the chair to his right. Lafayette stared at the seat for a moment before sitting down.

He and Lafayette didn't talk about anything interesting for the next hour. They did talk, though they mostly just asked each other questions for the other to answer. Hercules learned a lot about the Frenchman, who learned a lot about him in return. He had to admit, he enjoyed Lafayette's company. He was almost upset when John walked in to talk with Lafayette. He didn't voice this, however. He simply stood, shook hands with Lafayette, said he had fun talking to him and they should do it again sometime, and left. He walked back towards the main stage for a quick peek. He cracked the door and smiled at what he saw. Theodosia and Burr were having a quiet conversation off to the side and Hamilton was talking with the band. Hercules stepped away from the door with a pleased smile on his face. Today was interesting; something he considered good, he hated routine. He wasn't sure what John was thinking when he asked him to do this, but he was glad he did. As he walked out to his car, he wondered when he would be able to see the three politicians again.

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 **(1) Francis Hopkinson, James Lyon, William Billings, and Oliver Holden are all real musicians from around the time Washington was President.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry this one took so long to get out, I had tests to take and had to brush up on the Presidential Cabinet. I really appreciate all the feedback this is getting. It's good to know people are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. Enjoy and review!**

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Chapter 4: To The Four of Us

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY JEFFERSON?!"

"Oh, do _not_ act like you didn't hear me, _Hamilton!_ Your plan is as ill conceived as everything else you've said today. It's not going to work!"

"It's better than anything _you've_ come up with! It's the best way to bring the states back together after King's "Presidency." If anyone else can come up with something that won't plunge us into a _civil war_ , I'm all ears!"

"Ha! That's a first! Alexander Hamilton, listening to people. My god, the world must be ending!"

"YOU WANNA GO, YOU SLAVER?!"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"YOU HEARD ME! YOU MOTHER FUC-"

"ENOUGH! WE'RE TRYING TO FIX A COUNTRY OVER HERE!"

Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson, because honestly who else would it be, stared at, oddly enough, Aaron Burr. It was rare to hear the man raise his voice, let alone actually yell at someone. Alexander glanced at Jefferson for a millisecond before sighing and sitting back down, "Alright fine. What do you need help with Burr?"

"The National Bank is falling apart. Former President King really made sure they'd be screwed over when he left office. Being up for the position of Secretary of Treasury, you'd handle it best."

"On it."

Jefferson sat down a good distance away from Alexander and opened his own laptop, "What do you have for me?"

"I just got several lists of people up for nominations for positions in the Cabinet. Help me screen through through them."

"Got it."

The room became quiet, aside from the tapping of keys. There was a slightly tense feeling in the air that Alexander could understand. Jefferson, Burr and himself were the only ones that came in today and there was so much work they had to do. Setting up a Presidential cabinet _and_ making sure the government didn't fall apart was a big job, especially for such a small group as the one they had to work with.

Burr hadn't been kidding around when he said the National Bank was loosing it. Alexander was surprised it was still operating. The whole thing had been reduced to a shamble of what it used to be and was almost completely corrupted from the inside out. It would need an major overhaul just to make sure it didn't cave in on itself. He needed to make some calls, get with anyone working there that was still marginally trustworthy, and start fixing this mess.

"... Who the hell put _Lee_ in the nominations?!"

Alexander glanced over at a very irked Virginian. One of the few things they could agree on was that Lee was a terrible person and a worse politician. Seriously, how did someone like _him_ end up as Governor of California? Burr glanced up from his computer, "Huh? Lee? You mean Charles Lee? Hm. Hang on a second..."

Burr tapped through the system for a few minutes. "... It seems he's up for a position. Secretary of Commerce by the looks of it."

Alexander and Jefferson shot to their feet and yelled at the same time, "Are you _. kidding_ me?!"

They quickly glanced at each other, blinked, the glared at Burr in surprising unison for people that had a hard time not arguing.

Jefferson spoke first, "You _are_ kidding though, right? I mean... It's _Lee_!"

"Yeah! You trust _Lee_ to improve the standard of living for all Americans?!"

Burr sighed and pinched the bridge, "It's not confirmed, but we do have to give him _something."_

Jefferson fell back in his chair and groaned, "Is this where the country is headed? If so, I'm going back to France."

"Non! If _I_ don't get to bail, neither do you!"

Alexander blinked at the new voice. He turned towards the door and was pleasantly meet with America's favorite fighting Frenchman.

"Lafayette! Thank _God_ you're here!"

He shrugged off his jacket and sat between himself and Jefferson, "Oui, I heard you understaffed today and I decided to, how you say, lend a hand?"

Burr rolled his eyes, "It's nice to have you here, but we all know you speak perfect English. So if you could, how you say, knock it off, we'd appreciate it."

Laf chuckled as he pulled out his own laptop, "Ah yes, the illusive humor of Arron Burr. Amazing that it's come into view out of season." He turned to Jefferson, missing the look of indignation on Burr's face. "So, why do you plot a return to my motherland, mon ami?"

Jefferson sighed and ran a hand over his face, " _Charles Lee_ is up for a nomination. Most likely Secretary of Commerce, by the looks of it."

Lafayette's face scrunched up like he ate something unbearably bitter. Alexander just sighed and went back to trying to help the National Bank. "My thoughts exactly, Laf."

"Well, the girls aren't going to like that..."

Burr raised a curious eyebrow, "Girls?"

"Oui. The Schuyler Sisters said they'd be around soon."

"Oh yeah! Speaking of Angie and Liza, they're up for nominations too."

Alexander turned from his computer, "That so, Jefferson? What positions?"

"Hm... Looks like Secretary of Health and Human Services for Angie and Secretary of Education for Liza."

Alexander thought it over momentarily, "... Yeah, that makes sense."

Lafayette looked through the list as well, "Oui. I couldn't have thought of any better choices. General Washington has made some good picks. Oh! Paul Revere is on here!"

Alexander quickly leaned over, "Oh, really? Where?"

Lafayette smirked and him, clearly trying not to chuckle, "Secretary of Transportation."

Alexander barely held back his laughter. The Senator of Oregon and the three year winner of the Tour de France was almost too perfect a pick.

Jefferson tilted his head to the side, "How long do you think it will be until he makes it so people have to bike everywhere?"

Alexander and Lafayette couldn't not laugh at that. Even Burr chuckled some. It was nice to see them laughing after the hell they'd gone though to get where they are now. They'd been through and sacrificed a lot to get Washington in office. He wasn't sure where'd they'd have to go or what they'd have to do from here, but he had a feeling that they'd do what's right for America.

 _Meanwhile..._

"-nd then, he accuses Angelica of treason! _Angelica! Treason!_ Can you believe him?!"

"Oh my god. I can. Trust me Peg. I've looked into his history and trust me, if anyone's committed treason, it's Lee, not your sister."

Margarita "Peggy" Schuyler sighed and leaned back against the couch, "I know, right? I think he's still pissed that she was chosen over him to be House Speaker."

John Laurens nodded and filled both their cups of coffee, "Oh, definitely. Did you see the Twitter rant he went on that night? I mean, can you get any more petty?"

Hercules Mulligan sat next to John with his own coffee and a tray of cookies, "No one does petty like Lee. Except maybe Seabury."

"Ew! Gross! Don't bring him up! I've seen enough of that "reporter" to last me a lifetime. I know Fox had needed new blood, but seriously?! _Seabury?!"_

John nodded and picked up a cookie, "How that man has made it this far, I'll never know."

Theodosia Bartow sat next to Peggy and raised her own coffee, "Hear hear!"

The youngest Schuyler Sister chuckled and nudged Theo, "I hear you, I hear you."

Hercules chuckled and grabbed four cookies of his own, "So John, how was the interview with the Marquis?"

John smirked and sipped his coffee, "Oh, you would like to hear about Lafayette, wouldn't you?"

The elder man eyed him suspiciously, "What's that supposed to mean?"

His freckled friend simply shrugged and ate another cookie. Peggy and Theo exchanged glances and giggled. Hercules sighed and gulped down his coffee. "I don't know what's so funny. I'm just... curious about Lafayette. That's all."

Peggy chuckles and refills her coffee, "If you're just curious about Lafayette, then I guess so is John about a certain Caribbean politician."

John choked on his coffee, "Um! P-pardon?"

Theodosia snorted and nibbled a cookie, "Oh, I think you know what she means Johnny."

The young comedian groaned and finished his coffee, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The other three looked at him with equal disbelief. Hercules chuckled and ruffled John's hair, "Yeah, sure John. Whatever you say."

John huffed and grabbed another cookie, "So. Everything set up for tomorrow night?"

Peggy smirked widely, an almost evil glimmer in her eye, "Oh hell yes! I am so ready!"

Hercules chuckled, "Yeah, same over here. The audience won't know what hit em!"

Theodosia nodded, "Good. Remember, we only get one shot at this. Do you three know the signal word?"

The three comedians smiled widely and yelled, "Rochambeau!"

The young writer stood and raised her glass, "Then you know your orders. Let's not blow this. To the revolution!"

The other three stood and raised their glasses, "To the revolution!"


	5. Chapter 5

**This took way too long to get out. Sorry about that. Enjoy and review!**

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Chapter 5: The Battle of Yorktown

To say that John was nervous would be the understatement of the century. There was a large chance that everyone involved would get in major trouble. He could get arrested! Well, it was too late to back out anyway. His team, Hercules and his team, and Peggy and her team all worked so hard to get this set up and he wasn't going to let them down. Still, being the instigator for something this huge was kind of intimidating.

He was standing outside the Ed Sullivan Theater; you know, that place where The Late Show is filmed; waiting for exactly eleven thirty, the kick off time. A camera team was with him, waiting to start shooting. He watched the bustling metropolis of New York City scuttle around him, occasionally glancing at his phone. He had minutes to spare before it was time. The freckled comedian leaned back against the wall of the theater, trying to settle his nerves. His phone buzzed in his hand and he was glad to see that Hercules had opened a group chat.

 _The Bear: Yo! Everyone ready? 2 mins until crunch time!_

 _Schuyler Sisters Part Three: all set over here!_

 _Dear Dosi: Likewise._

 _Jonah J John Jamison Jammy Jay: Same_

 _Learn How to Write Smaller: All set!_

 _Freckled Turtle: Just waiting for 11_

 _The Bear: Nervous John?_

 _Freckled Turtle: A little..._

 _Jonah J John Jamison Jammy Jay: You'll do fine Laurens._

 _Freckled Turtle: SAYS YOU!_

 _Dear Dosi: I have faith in you John. You'll do great._

 _Schuyler Sisters Part Three: Hell yeah! Knock em dead Johnny!_

 _Learn How to Write Smaller: you worry to much. Relax. It'll all work out._

 _Freckled Turtle: or we all go to jail..._

 _The Bear: I'll be fine in jail._

 _Schuyler Sisters Part Three: Same_

 _Dear Dosi: Ditto._

 _Freckled Turtle: GUYS!_

 _Jonah J John Jamison Jammy Jay: Laurens, relax. We need to do this. The country needs a sign that we can be united again and it needs it now. We have to show them all that it is possible to live in a country that won't treat them like they aren't people. That they aren't outcasts because of the color of their skin or their religion or their gender. They need this sign and we need you to pull it off, Laurens._

 _The Bear: Nice paragraph Jay._

 _Jonah J John Jamison Jammy Jay: Thanks_

 _Dear Dosi: Jay's right John. The country needs this and we need you._

 _Schuyler Sisters Part Three: We're with you all the way!_

 _Learn How to Write Smaller: 1 minute left guys!_

 _Schuyler Sisters Part Three: Places everyone!_

 _The Bear: Good luck John._

 _Freckled Turtle: You too Herc._

John put his phone away at exactly at eleven thirty and started walking towards Times Square. The camera team followed close behind, having turned on at the same time, and filmed his steps. They were giving a live view of what he was doing to a mass audience watching online from multiple websites. It was technically the biggest audience he'd ever had and he was trying really hard not to trip and fall. He reached Times Square slower than normal, given the constant traffic that surrounded the area being worse today. He walked to the center of the square and looked up at the thing he was here to do.

Halfway through his second year as President, George King had fifty one statues of himself made and put up in the capital of each state and Washington DC. A sign of his influence and power. Everyone who was against him hated those statues and all they stood for, but couldn't do anything about them. The President put them there, after all. They couldn't be legally removed, we just had to live with them. Well, that's what everyone thought.

Four months ago, Jonah J John Jamison Jammy Jay and Learn How to Write Smaller; also known as John Jay and John Hancock; reporters for The New York Times and The Huffington Post, respectfully; and good friends of Peggy's found something interesting. As it turns out, the statues were, not only illegal, but unowned. Well, until John, Hercules, Theodosia, and Peggy bought all of them.

Now, here he was, preparing to use this symbol of oppression and hate to bring a country together. Man, he was crazy, wasn't he?

He walked up to the statue and scowled at it. George King wasn't the handsomest of men and the statue showed it. It was about five feet from the ground to it's feet and another five or so from it's feet to it's head. The statue itself wasn't connected it's base, which made John's job much easier.

He turned away from the hideous statue and took a bullhorn from one of the cameramen. He cleared his throat and clicked it on.

"... ... ... ROCHAMBEAU!"

A lot of people stopped at the sound of some guy yelling into a bullhorn at it's loudest setting. He went quiet for a full minute before pulling up the bullhorn again.

"... .. ROCHAMBEAU!"

People were looking at him like he was crazy, but in the distance he heard something. He raised his bullhorn again.

"ROCHAMBEAU!"

The people around him started to hear it too. He smirked as, from seemingly out if nowhere, hundreds of people surrounded the statue, all chanting the same word.

"ROCHAMBEAU! ROCHAMBEAU! ROCHAMBEAU! ROCHAMBEAU! ROCHAMBEAU!"

He grabbed a thick, course rope from a cameraman and threw it over the statue, hooking it around the head. Several more ropes joined his and started pulling. He tossed his rope to some people behind him and pulled as hard as he could. The statue didn't stand a chance and fell to the ground with a smash. The mob went wild and so did some of the bystanders. John pushed towards the base and hauled himself onto it. He looked over the chaos and raised his bullhorn again.

"Yo yo yo yo yo yo! What time is it?!"

"Showtime!"

"What time is it?!"

"Showtime!"

The crowd had quieted down considerably, waiting for him to speak. He drew a breath and pointed to the remains of the statue.

"People of New York City, do you see this statue? This statue has been standing here for six years. A symbol for everything that set us apart. Everything that made us different. The mark of all the hate that President King instilled in the American people. But now is no longer those times and this is no longer that country! Right now, every statue in every capital of every state is being taken down! From Washington DC, to Sacramento, California. From Austin, Texas to whatever the the capital of Montana is! People like you and like me and people that aren't like you and aren't like me are tearing down these statues. We are not a divided nation. We are not a people of hate and anger and fear. We are Americans and we are UNITED!"

To say the crowd went wild would be an understatement. John leaped off the base and joined his fellow Americans in their celebration. He vaguely heard the sound if police sirens going off in the distance, but he couldn't care at the moment, he had a reunion to celebrate.

 _Three days later..._

Alexander Hamilton would deny it for the rest of his life, but watching what John Laurens, Hercules Mulligan, Peggy Schuyler, and Theodosia Barlow had done made him literally squeal. He had hated that statue since first laying eyes on it when he arrived in America and seeing it destroyed made him unbelievably giddy. He was able to watch the event three days after it had happened because he was finally able to take off from work. The Cabinet was coming together at break neck speed and he was able to take his first day off in months. The first thing he did upon getting home was get comfortable check for any new episodes of The Late Show. Because he thought it was really funny. That's it. Only reason, he swears it is. There were three episodes, of course, and he ended up watching the statue breaking last. Seeing the look on his own face after hearing the speech John Laurens gave, he decided to never watch The Late Show in front of other people.

His computer chimed and he didn't bother to suppress an annoyed groan. He told the team not to email him with any more problems. The constant emails about the National Bank crisis was hard enough to deal with. Upon opening his inbox, the young politician was surprised to see an email from Lafayette.

 _Hamilton,_

 _Mon Dieu! Avez-vous vu ce qui s'est passé dans les capitales? J'ai entendu Hercules Mulligan impliqué et puis j'ai vu une vidéo de lui poussant cette horrible statue de ce Pedistal et Hercules est tout simplement incroyable, non?_

 _Mais à la vraie raison de ce message. Le chef de la Banque Nationale est près d'avoir une pause émotionnelle. Pouvez-vous lui parler, lui dire de se détendre? Je sais que c'est votre journée de congé, mais je sais ce que vous ressentiriez si quelqu'un d'autre l'a dit pour vous._

 _Bonne chance,_

 _Marquis de Lafayette_

Alexander chuckled at the email, Lafayette always wrote in French when he was excited. He wrote a quick email back saying he did see what happened with the statues, yes; Hercules was awesome, and he'd call the National Bank later. He may have also typed something similar to, "stop telling me about your celebrity crush. We all know already," but that was between him and the Frenchman.

He clicked send and switched back to The Late Show's home page. He chuckled at the pictures of various noteworthy members of the staff, though most had John Laurens in them. He took a minute to actually _look_ at the young host. His curly brown hair was always tied into a tight ponytail, but some loose strands framed the sides of his face in every photo, like he has a hard time taming his hair before every show. His numerous dark brown freckles stood out against his lighter brown skin and Alexander wondered if they only covered his face or if they were all over the comedian. John's freckles coupled with the constant lopsided smile he had made his sea green eyes practically sparkle.

 _Huh. He's pretty cute, isn't he?_

Immediately shaking the thought from his head, Alexander quickly started typing an email to the National Bank and he swears to God he isn't blushing!


	6. Chapter 6

**I am so sorry this one took so long! Some things came up that I needed to handle and I had to go to the doctor and everything kinda got away from me. I'm sorry. E** **njoy and review!**

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Chapter 6: Set My Heart Aflame

"C'est juste que Jemmy était vraiment malade hier! J'avais besoin de prendre soin de lui."

"Attendez, attendez une seconde. Jemmy? Sérieusement? Vous avez un nom d'animal pour lui?"

"Quelle? Oh! Attendez! Merde! Je veux dire-! Je juste-! Ce n'est pas le propos! Je vous dis pourquoi je n'étais pas ici hier."

"Haha! Détendez Thomas. Je comprends. C'est bon, mon ami."

"Wait, really? You mean it Laf?"

"Of course. It's really fine Thomas."

Thomas Jefferson sighed and leaned back in his seat, "Thanks for understanding Laf. I knew you'd get it."

Lafayette smirked and turned back to the computer he was setting up, "It's really no problem, mon ami. I can understand you wanting to tend to your boyfriend when he is in bad shape."

"Yeah, well, it's just- Wait, WHAT?!"

The Frenchman chuckled, "What? You missed out on the final day of the Cabinet assembly to be with Madison."

"Because he was sick!"

"He's always sick, Thomas. Though, whenever he gets really bad, you always go to him, whether he asks or not. I have to wonder..."

Thomas groaned and faceplanted into the table, "It's not like that."

He ruffled the Virginian's hair, "Of course it's not..."

His smile shifted into a smirk, "...When do you meet him for lunch?"

He sighed, "... In about an hour."

"Thought so. Can you hold the fort down while I do a quick, how you say, reconnaissance before I go?"

Jefferson sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, "Sure Laf. Just... Can you explain why I wasn't here to Hamilton? I don't want to deal with him and his yelling today."

Lafayette chuckled and patted Thomas' shoulder, "Sure thing."

He left Thomas in the room and walked down the hall. It was the big day for their team, January twenty second; George Washington's Inauguration Day. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to be there on stage with the rest of the team, but he had work to do. He, Thomas Jefferson, Robert Morris, and Benjamin Franklin were tasked with moving their home base from Washington's building into the White House while the rest of the team was at the Inauguration, looking professional and smiling for the cameras. They were done moving all the equipment and data and were currently setting everything up in various rooms across the massive building. The fact that he was even in the White House was mindboggling to the Frenchman. He knew that General Washington would be President when they were done fighting for their rights, but he didn't think he'd be with him this far into it. He always thought that he would be long gone by now for one reason or another. Probably gone back to France or gotten himself assassinated, if he could make a guess.

He was walking through all the rooms to make sure the team was setting everything up properly before he went out to lunch. The examination went quicker than he thought it would and he was out in about forty five minutes. He could see a massive crowd gathering already to meet the newest President, despite the biting cold that always plagued January's in America. He really wished he could finish in time to be up there on stage with the General and Alexander.

He walked several miles away to a small bar he knew that served amazing food and some of the best of what Americans sadly called "alcohol" in Washington DC. He was almost there when someone ran into him and knocked him into a brick wall. He was fully prepared to curse the offender out in French, at least until his eyes meet a familiar pair of black ones.

"... Marquis..."

"... Monsieur Mulligan..."

The two men blinked at each other before Hercules Mulligan apparently remembered that he knocked the Frenchman into a wall.

"Ah, man, god. Here, let me help you."

He grabbed Lafayette's hand and pulled him up quickly, showing off a portion of the strength he obviously had. The politician thudded into the taller man's chest and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of freshly pressed laundry and a light sweetness he couldn't quite name. He was given a very sudden and intimate up close look of Hercules' face he hadn't had before. He could clearly make out the creases on his face from smiling so often, the faint stubble of his chin from not shaving for a day or to, and that the comedian's eyes were actually a very dark brown, not black. Realizing that he'd been standing there, staring at Hercules for quite a while, he took a step back and muttered a thank you. He was too busy fighting off a blush to make sure he was speaking English.

Hercules responded with a quick "No problem," so he assumed it was English he spoke.

Lafayette slowed his breathing and looked up at the comedian, "S-so, um, what are you doing here?"

"Me? I was gonna meet up with my team at a bar and watch the Inauguration there because it's freezing out here."

"Oh? I was going to a bar too. I am starving and wanted to get some food before I went back to work."

"Huh, what are the odds? Where you headed?"

"It's one not far from here called The Place to Be."

"You're kidding! That's where I'm headed! Care to join me for a bit?"

He probably should have said yes slower and not as enthusiastically, but Hercules walked with him all the way there. The Place to Be was a place he found his during his first few months in America. It was actually the place he first meet the living spitfire that was Alexander Hamilton. It was a rundown little hole in the wall, but it had a coziness about it that Lafayette loved. Upon arriving, Hercules introduced him to several people who helped him on his show; various writers, reporters, and technical supporters. They were all very nice and welcoming even though he was basically intruding in on their little Inauguration party. It was interesting to see how close the group was, constantly joking around and teasing with each other. He sat in a booth near the back, waiting for his food while watching the patrons party together.

Hercules sat across from him and smiled his signature smile, "Enjoying yourself over here?"

He chuckled and leaned back, "Indeed I am, but I don't mind the company."

"That so? Well, mind if I chat then?"

"Chat away, mon ami!"

"Alright... What part of France are you from?"

He smiled softly and glanced out a window, "Chavaniac. It's a commune in the Auvergne providence in Southern France. I spent most of my life in Paris, however. I came to America about five years ago to find my own, how you say, American Dream. What about you? Where in this great country did you originate?"

"Actually, I'm from Ireland."

"What?! Really? I had no idea."

Hercules laughed heartily at his reaction, "Hahaha, yep, that's right! I'm from a large town in County Londonberry called Coleraine. My parents and I moved to New York when I was six and, several years later, here I am."

"Wow. I had no idea you were an immigrant yourself."

"Yeah, I'm told it's hard to tell."

Lafayette chuckled and set his elbows on the table, "Now I'm starting to question any of the other assumptions I've made about you."

"I'm more than happy to tell you. I-if you have the time, that is..."

The Frenchman could practically feel his confliction, "... I... I really should go back to the White House... Make sure the setup is going smoothly... but..."

He almost didn't want to think about what the split second spark in the comedian's brown eyes was, "But what?"

"... I... I-i should really get goi-."

 _Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!_

Lafayette blinked and pulled out his phone. It was a text from Jefferson.

 _"Hé Lafayette. Je voulais simplement vous dire que nous avons fini tôt. Vous ne devez pas revenir, vous pouvez nous rencontrer à l'inauguration. On se voit là-bas!"_

He looked at the text for much longer than he needed to. He turned his phone off, stuck the device into his back pocket and practically beamed at a confused looking Hercules.

"... Who was that?"

"Thomas Jefferson. He just informed me that I do not need to return because they finished without me."

"... That means?"

"I'm all yours today, Hercules. My first question. Do you have any siblings?"

That's how it went for the next few hours; Lafayette asking questions and Hercules answering. When he ran out of questions he wanted to ask, Hercules asked him things he wanted to know. He watched the complete Inauguration out of the corners of his eyes, but kept his main attention on the Irishman in front of him.

At some point, they decided to start drinking, over the new President if he was remembering correctly. Lafayette couldn't bear the taste of most American alcohol, but for some reason, Hercules could tell exactly what he would and wouldn't like. He figured it was related to the comedian's self claimed ability to tell exactly what a person wanted, just by looking at them. The Frenchman started having serious gaps in his memory after about five or so drinks. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he ended up leaning against an equally drunk Hercules and telling him a long list of embarrassing and humerus stories about his childhood. Hercules laughed loudly at just about everything he said, making Lafayette in turn laugh and forget where he was in his story, forcing him to start again or start something completely different. The young politician couldn't explain it, but being around Hercules; hearing his voice, feeling his giant yet gentle hands, breathing in just the smell of _him_ ; it just felt so right, so natural.

When one of Hercules' reporter friends, his name was John or something, tried to get the comedian to go home, Lafayette insisted he go home with him. If he were sober, he would adamantly deny that he went home with someone he honestly only got to know on a personal level that same night because of any emotional reasons. He'd say that he just didn't want Hercules to be left on his own given how drunk he was or that the young politician didn't have a place of his own to stay tonight. While both of these things were true enough, Lafayette was very very drunk and only really thought about how he didn't want to leave the side of someone who made him feel the way Hercules had made him feel all night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Before I start this chapter, I was asked to translate what the first few lines of the last chapter said, so here you go:**

 **"C'est juste que Jemmy était vraiment malade hier! J'avais besoin de prendre soin de lui."**

 ** _"It's just that Jemmy was really sick yesterday! I needed to take care of him."_**

 **"Attendez, attendez une seconde. Jemmy? Sérieusement? Vous avez un nom d'animal pour lui?"**

 ** _"Wait, wait a second. Jemmy? Seriously? You have a nickname for him?"_**

 **"Quelle? Oh! Attendez! Merde! Je veux dire-! Je juste-! Ce n'est pas le propos! Je vous dis pourquoi je n'étais pas ici hier."**

 ** _"What? Wait! Oh! Shit! I mean-! It's just-! That isn't the point! I'm just telling you why I wasn't here yesterday."_**

 **"Haha! Détendez Thomas. Je comprends. C'est bon, mon ami."**

 ** _"Haha! relax Thomas. I understand. It's good, my friend."_**

 **There we are. I would also like to thank everyone for liking this story so much. I really do appreciate all the support that this is getting. I also know that this is kinda short, but the next one will definitely make up for it. Now, on with the chapter! Enjoy and review!**

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Chapter 7: How Can I Say "No" to This?

The first thing Hercules acknowledged when he woke up was the thumping headache he had. It wasn't _too_ bad, which meant he either didn't get _that_ drunk; which was very unlikely considering he couldn't remember jack; or someone took care of him before he passed out, as uncomfortable as it might have been for whoever tended to him. He knew how much everyone on his team hated taking care of his drunk self.

The second thing he noticed was a weight on his chest. It wasn't unpleasant or anything, it was just there, being heavy on his bare chest; he wasn't surprised he was shirtless, he usually took his shirt off when he was drunk. He moved his hands to the weight and realized that it was another person, fast asleep on his chest. He couldn't remember anything about who took him home or the time in his house, but he assumed that he pissed off at least two of his team members last night; the one that drove him home and promptly left and the one he dragged into bed with him. Whichever teammate it was he fell asleep with, they were not going to be happy with him upon getting up, that was certain.

They both were covered by a blanket; him only being up to his neck and the other other being completely covered. He pulled back the blanket enough to see the person and was meet with a mass of curly black hair trying to break free from a loosened ponytail. No one on his team had hair that wild, but they also wouldn't have let a random person from the bar go home with him. He shifted them onto their side to get a look at their face and nearly had a heart attack.

He, Hercules Mulligan, was sharing a bed with the Marquis de Lafayette.

To say he simply bushed and stuttered would be the understatement of the freaking century. Embarrassing story short; he ended up in the downstairs living room, screaming into a fluffy red throw pillow.

After taking a minute to _calm the hell down;_ because he was an adult for Pete's sake; Hercules started looking for his phone. He assumed that it had, at the very least, _some_ clues about what happened the night before. It was in his coat pocket; his coat, however, somehow ended up in the fridge. He didn't even bother questioning his drunk self anymore. He'd gotten a few texts from various people from the party; asking if he got home safely, if he was feeling alright after last night, if he needed anything for his hangover; the usual he got after a night of heavy drinking. Most of the other texts, however, were asking what he and Lafayette had gotten up to that night. Even John, Peggy and Theodosia texted him about it. He hated how news spread so fast amongst his friends.

Hercules wasn't feeling well enough to text anyone back just yet; a decent enough cover story. He set the phone down, poured himself a glass of ginger ale, and leaned against his fridge. He downed the drink in one gulp and glanced at the stairs. Against everything telling him not to, he went back into his room. He stood in the doorway and took the time to actually _look_ at the young politician in his bed. Lafayette's ponytail was loosened and his long black curls were fanned out like a halo. He was missing a few pieces of clothing, leaving him in his dress pants and a partially unbuttoned blue shirt that revealed part of his finely toned chest. With the way the blanket gathered around his midsection and how he just looked while he slept, Hercules was tempted to crawl back into his bed and just-

He _immediately_ turned around and covered his face. He was _not_ going to finish that thought. He _was not_ going to do whatever he was just thinking about. He was going to go back downstairs and text everyone he was fine. He'd make breakfast and coffee and act like absolutely nothing weird had happened. He was going to-

The sound of shifting sheets cut off Hercules' train of thought. A soft, sleepy voice groaned as it's owner moved and, with a soft muttering of "... Herc?..." the comedian's brain shut down.

The defeated man drew a deep breath, turned around, and crawled back into bed. He looked the Frenchman and sighed; he had it much worse than he thought, didn't he? Lafayette shifted closer to him and he couldn't help but chuckle, it was honestly pretty cute. He hooked an arm around the smaller man's lower back and pulled him closer; no real point in denying how he felt at this point. He nestled into the politician's curly mass of hair and closed his eyes. He rarely ever got to sleep in and he couldn't really come up with an actually sensible reason to leave at the moment.

 _Meanwhile..._

Alexander Hamilton paced the floor of his apartment worriedly. No one had heard from Lafayette since he left for lunch yesterday and he was very concerned. He was keeping an eye on his phone and his email for any messages from his French friend. He knew Laf could handle himself, but he was ready if he needed help. Or a lawyer. Or both.

When his computer went off, he practically dove for it. Instead of an email from Lafayette, however, it was one from Theodosia. They'd exchanged emails before the election and spoke often; sometimes about business, sometimes not; he'd consider themselves friends, for the most part. When looking at this one, he knew it was business. It was relatively short and straight to the point, but Alexander was relatively shocked about what it said.

The email, in short, was an invitation for him to appear on The Late Show.

In all honesty, the politician shouldn't have written back as quickly as he did, but it was already sent before he realized it. If one were to ask him why he said yes, he would have given a multitude of reasons with lengthy explanations, spanning about an hour and a half in total. However, in truth, there was only one real reason he wanted to be on the show and that reason had beautiful blue eyes and was covered in freckles.


End file.
